The Art of Acting
by softer
Summary: They all had roles to play. Now a two-shot.
1. Chapter 1

The first thing she noticed when she woke up, the burning smell of antiseptics aside, was the hand wrapped around her own. A big hand, strong and encompassing.

That's what triggered the flood of memories.

The funeral, her eulogy, the folded flag.  
>A new widow, an old widower, a best friend.<br>Blinding pain, strong hands, three words.

"_I love you." _She heard the words as if he were whispering them in her ear, see the terror in his sea blue eyes as if he were inches from her face.

"_I love you, Kate." _

She was brought back to reality by the hand holding hers, just reminding her of its presence. It was so soft, so comforting. She could ignore the hospital smell and the stiff sheets beneath her and the growing pain in her chest- all she could focus on was that hand holding hers.

And on impulse, she squeezed.

"Love you, too," she murmured without opening her eyes, her voice muffled by the days she's spent asleep.

"Wh-what? You love me?" she heard a voice ask, cracking from surprise and disuse. There was a scrapping sound that must have been a chair pushing backwards and then: "Katie, are you awake?" The excitement was growing in the deep voice, and it shocked her so much that she forced her eyes open.

Josh was hovering above her, holding her hand tighter now, a brilliant smile spread on his face, strands of well-groomed black hair spilling into his hazel eyes.

"You're awake!" he cried, beaming, holding her hand tighter still. She watched from her horizontal position, frozen in horror as he turned his head, obviously speaking to someone she couldn't see from her vantage point. "She's awake!" And then, turning back to her, pushing the hair matted to her forehead out of her eyes, "I love you, too, baby."

She forced a smile on to her face- it was weak but it seemed to please the man currently invading her space. "I need to-" she motioned sitting up, and he immediately backed off, grabbing some pillows to support her and helping her upright.

The pain in her chest seared more painfully than ever.  
>It had nothing to do with the entry wound approximately 4 centimeters from her heart.<br>It has everything to do with the sight before her.

Sitting, in a chair at the foot of her bed, was Richard Castle. He was in sweats and a t-shirt, his elbows on his knees, his head lifted just enough to capture her eyes with his own. He looked like he hadn't slept in days, proof lining his jaw and clouding his eyes.

Beside her, Josh was talking about how she must have heard him, how much he loved her, how worried he had been, how much he loved her- but he went out of focus and all Kate could see or hear was sitting at the end of her bed, looking at her with a slack-jawed look that said more than words needed to.

He knew who she was talking to.  
>She knew he knew, it was all over his face.<p>

Even as Josh started pressing a kiss to her temple, murmuring more words of love and comfort in her ear, she held Rick's gaze, trying to transmit everything she was feeling.

She loved him. _Loved _him. _Him. _

And then her gaze dropped his, reluctantly. The raw moment disappeared faster than flash paper and her gaze was suddenly on Josh again, smiling softly.

She had never told Josh she loved him.  
>She had never really planned to.<p>

But they all had roles to play.

Her hand reached up, touching his face, gently, her thumb brushing his cheek, letting the false smile reach her eyes. She cared for Josh. She did.

Rick rose, slowly, a new kind of sadness in his eyes. He thought he'd lost her, and for four days, it was his biggest fear, regret, and nightmare. Now he knew he'd lost her, and to add insult to injury, he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was his in the first place.

He had never imagined admitting defeat.  
>He had never really planned to.<p>

But they all had roles to play.

His hand reached out, closing around the doorknob, twisting, letting new harsh lighting pour into the hospital room. He cared for her, more than three words could even express. So he left.

"I'll go get the doctor."

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><p><strong>Thanks to Emily, for making me get out of bed to write this.<br>(seriously-this may never have been written if she didn't demand it so). **

**Reviews are much appreciated :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**I debated for quite some time on whether or not to add on to this little ****vignette. I know it's taken some time, but I'm glad I left well enough alone because the moment I stopped searching for a story, one found me. I was overwhelmed by the response for this one-shot, and while this probably isn't what those demanding more had in mind, I couldn't get it out of my head. So without further adieu: **

* * *

><p>The first thing he noticed when he woke up, the familiar smell of antiseptic aside, was the heavenly aroma of coffee. He looked up to see Rick Castle.<p>

Not the Rick Castle on the back flap of a dust jacket, not the Rick Castle on the Ledger's Top Ten Bachelors, but the Rick Castle who's spent the last four days sleeping little and aging a lot.

He was extending a travel mug towards him. Extending an olive branch.

He accepted it, smiling his thanks.

"I know you probably don't drink coffee much, being a surgeon and all, but I figured you could use the caffeine boost." The writer offered, sheepishly.

"Thank you," Josh said. He meant it. He watched as Rick took up his familiar spot at the foot of her hospital bed, and he himself turned back to her sleeping frame, gripping her hand with his free one. Her hand was so cold in comparison to the coffee, and the contrast was so stark that he had to set the cup down to shake the thought.

She was fine. She was fine. She was fine.

He'd overseen the surgery personally when they wouldn't let them do it himself, and he was confident she was in good hands. She'd be fine. He lost himself in the mantra- not for the first time, when he felt pressure against his palm.

For the first time in four days, her hand gripped back.

"Love you, too."

Her voice was cracked and tired, but he heard the words like she was shouting them in his ear.

"Wh-What? You love me?" He found himself standing immediately, all thoughts of the writer and the coffee completely forgotten. Her eyes weren't open, but he was _sure _he heard her. "Katie, are you awake?" he couldn't keep the hope out of his voice.

Her eyes flickered open, and he grinned widely. "You're awake!" he was still grinning foolishly. He didn't care. He looked towards Rick at the end of the bed. "She's awake!" He turned back to Kate, brushing the hair that clung to her forehead, where a sweat broke. "I love you, too, baby."

He was overjoyed to see the flicker of a smile on her face, but it was quickly replaced by her frowning brow line as she struggled to sit upright. "I need to-" He backed off immediately, tucking an extra pillow behind her for support.

It wasn't the best idea for her to sit up, but he knew it would be fruitless to try to stop her. He watched her face intently, mesmerized by eyes he feared he'd never see again. Because of this, he knew the moment she realized Rick at the end of the bed.

She was stunned at first, and he watched as the surprise faded into acknowledgement, then to understanding, and then to apology.

He blinked, but he didn't miss the love there, either.

Love.  
>Apology.<p>

He did the only thing his brain recognized. He slid an arm around her shoulder and pressed his lip to her temple and he told her he loved her.

Maybe if he said it enough, maybe if he tried hard enough, loved her enough, she would look at him like that.

She wasn't his.  
>She never really was.<p>

The logical, pragmatic side of him that went to medical school and compartmentalized and started seeing Kate Beckett because she was undemanding and understanding and easy to look at- the one who lived off of statistics and facts and percentiles- knew that his attempts to keep her caged were futile.

The other side of him- the one that was entirely, completely, hopelessly head-over-heels in love with Kate Beckett- didn't care.

He had to try.

He always thought himself the bigger man but in this moment-  
>He didn't really care.<p>

Because they all had roles to play.

He watched as Rick stood awkwardly and stumbled to the door, his hand on the door handle, his gaze a dangerous mixture of hurt and sadness and defeat.

"I'll go get the doctor."

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><p><strong>Thank you to Emily, for the editing. You guys should be proud, I wrote this all by myself without needing any sort of death threats (but she was still fantastic). I'm going to go hide somewhere where your rocks can't reach me. <strong>

**Reviews are most appreciated. **


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